


bloom

by cecropia



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Boys In Love, Communication, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Massage, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Soft Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), we stan realistic relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 07:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecropia/pseuds/cecropia
Summary: “You’re okay,” Evan hears through his own gasping breaths, “You’re safe. I’m here. I love you.”





	bloom

**Author's Note:**

> hi no one reads these but here u go :)))  
wanted to write something short and soft and y'all know how i love that hurt/comfort shit ok  
title is inspired by bloom by the paper kites  
<3333 love u guys thank u for reading!!!!

Connor’s fingers trail lazily down the back of Evan’s neck. 

It’s one of a few things that immediately makes Evan’s skin explode in goosebumps, shiver rolling through his whole body. And Connor knows this, and he’s using it to his advantage because Connor knows the ins and outs of Evan’s entire body, he’s got it mapped out entirely, and he wants Evan to fall apart. 

He’s probably hoping it’ll make Evan let his walls down. Probably hoping it’ll make Evan vulnerable. 

“Relax,” Connor says softly right next to his ear, pressing a kiss right behind it. Evan feels the pressure when Connor pushes himself back up into a sitting position, using Evan’s back as a springboard. And he feels it when Connor adjusts his hips, “accidentally” pushing Evan’s groin forward into the mattress. 

A game they like to play. 

But tonight, for some reason, it makes Evan’s stomach sour. 

“Hey, Con…?” Evan starts timidly, resting his cheek on his folded arms and ignoring the pang of want in his abdomen followed by an uneasy feeling unfurling and erasing everything that was there previously. Connor’s warm hands slide over his shoulders, and then his shoulder blades. “Can we… I just. I just want, like… a regular massage tonight. PG.”

Evan bites his tongue, holds back his apology. He’s got nothing to be sorry for, he knows, but it still buzzes on his lips, threatening to come out. 

“Yeah— yeah, of course,” Connor says distractedly, leaning down again to kiss Evan’s cheek. His hair cascades over the side of Evan’s face, tickling his nose. He can feel the heat radiating off of Connor’s cheeks. “Sorry, I thought—“

“It’s okay,” Evan quickly reassures him, shaking his head. Connor kisses his temple. “I just… I dunno, I…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Connor murmurs into the skin of Evan’s shoulder. And Evan lets out a grateful sigh, relaxing into Connor’s touch when he digs his thumbs just right into the space between Evan’s shoulders and his neck. 

“So tense…” Connor mutters almost to himself, caressing Evan’s neck softly for a moment. He runs warm fingers lightly down his spine. “You work too fucking hard.”

The words are sharp but the way Connor delivers them is soft, affectionate. He punctuates it by pressing his palms flat against Evan’s shoulder blades. 

Evan scoffs. “Right.”

Connor just sighs gently, pressing forward to kiss the back of Evan’s head. “Okay, fine. You  _ think _ too fucking hard.”

Evan grins, eyes closed as Connor presses another kiss to the back of his neck. “Won’t argue with that.”

Connor’s hands move upward to Evan’s shoulders now, warming them with his touch before sliding down the back of his arms. And it’s weird, because all Connor’s doing is running his hands up up up and then right back down, but sometimes he’ll stop to rub little circles into them with his thumbs, pressing a kiss or two against Evan’s warming skin, and. Something about the way Connor’s touching him so softly, so gentle— on the backs of his arms, of all places— is making emotion well up in Evan’s chest, right at the base of his throat. 

He doesn’t understand going from feeling as if his life is devoid of color, as if he’s the worst being that exists in the universe— the worst partner, the worst student, the worst son— to feeling  _ important _ and  _ needed _ and  _ appreciated _ just at the brush of Connor’s skin on his. He doesn’t get it. 

And Connor’s done it, Evan thinks. He’s broken those fucking walls down like he always does, somehow, because Evan’s letting himself feel again. 

Evan buries his head into the crooks of his arms. He hopes Connor can’t feel him trembling. 

“Alright?” Connor murmurs at Evan’s slight change in position, ever attentive. 

Evan just nods. 

He can feel it melting. His resolve. At every brush of Connor’s fingers over his shoulders and his back, every simple touch, Evan relaxes further into the mattress below him. And with every touch the walls around his heart are knocked down, one by one, until he’s shaking so hard that his shuddering breaths are loud enough to immediately alert the attention of the beautiful boy on top of him. 

“Evan,” Connor whispers, not condescending, not with pity, but just with a need to understand. 

Evan takes a shaky breath in, shaking his head and burying it further into his arms. 

“Hey. You don’t… have to be okay, or whatever,” Connor tells him gently, fingers ghosting over his shoulders again. “You’re allowed to not be.”

And Evan tries to respond, but all that comes out is a choked-off sob. 

Connor slowly climbs off of him, keeping warm hands on him at all times. And Evan feels him flop down beside him, palm pressed to his back. He can tell that Connor’s looking at him and it makes him shrink even more into his arms. 

“Let me...?” Connor asks, so quietly Evan’s not sure he heard it properly. Connor’s fingers curl up against his back, wanting to pull Evan in. 

And so Evan takes another measured breath in, trying to hold himself together for the few moments it takes for him to turn over to face Connor, but his face crumples as Connor’s hand slides up to Evan’s neck, pulling him forward. Connor holds him crushingly close, Evan’s face pressed into the crook of Connor’s neck, and when Evan breathes him in, wraps his arms around Connor’s torso, what he had left of his pride dissolves into thin air. 

He breaks. 

Evan doesn’t really hear the things Connor’s whispering into the top of his head, but he can feel the kisses planted there, Connor’s fingers pressing hard into his skin. It’s grounding, because then Evan knows that he’s real, that there’s something tethering him to this earth and it brings him out of his head and into the present. 

Slowly but surely Connor’s words come through. “You’re okay,” Evan hears through his own gasping breaths, “You’re safe. I’m here. I love you.”

Evan uses a nod to tell Connor _ I hear you, I love you, I promise I’m not ignoring you.  _ And when that doesn’t feel like enough he presses kisses to Connor’s collarbone, nuzzles further into his neck and tightens his grip around Connor’s waist. 

Gasps turn into gentle cries, cries into the occasional sniffle and then Evan’s breathing evens out completely, although still a bit shaky, warm breath bouncing off of Connor’s neck and back onto his cheeks. It’s a warmth that should be kind of suffocating, should make Evan want to squirm out of Connor’s grasp, but it’s like the warmth of slowly waking up in the morning. That kind of groggy comforting feeling where all Evan wants is to relax back into his pillows, pull his blanket back up to his chin and drown in the feeling of all-consuming heat. The kind that releases the tension in his muscles and clears his mind of all of the world’s problems. 

Connor’s fingers twitch where they’re still pressed hard into Evan’s skin. He relaxes just a bit, shifting his head so that his mouth is pressed to Evan’s forehead. And then his hands find their way into Evan’s hair, starting at the top and combing downward. Every so often he scratches at Evan’s scalp simply because he knows Evan likes it, his touches just as caring as ever as he whispers words of comfort into his skin, and. 

Evan’s just. He’s so full of love. 

He takes a deep breath in and Connor startles a little. 

“Ev?” He asks, voice muffled by Evan’s head and crackly from lack of use. 

“I love you,” Evan rasps, clearing his throat when it comes out scratchy. “I love you,” He says again, clearer, because they’ve been working on vocalizing it more often, every time they think it, and Evan just needs Connor to know, because. 

He doesn’t want to talk about it. There’s nothing to explain, really. Sometimes he just… breaks down. Everything builds up and up and up, and then the dam breaks and everything comes out at once, and he can’t pinpoint exactly what broke it or even what pushed him to that point in the first place. But he knows Connor won’t push him to talk about it, knows Connor would understand if he talked about it anyway, and he just needs to tell him how much he appreciates it. All of it. The understanding, the way Connor holds him, the fact that Connor loves him endlessly, unconditionally. No matter what. No matter how much of a fucking disaster Evan can be. Connor’s still there, after all this time. 

He cradles the back of Evan’s head, holds him close. “I love you so much,” Connor tells him softly. It feels like a secret, like something only for Evan. Evan curls his fingers in where they rest against Connor’s back, keeping their bodies pressed close together. 

_ I love you more _ , Evan wants to say, because there’s no way Connor feels everything Evan’s feeling to the same extent. His love for Connor is endless, like an ocean; the waves never cease and Evan’s fucking drowning but in the best way possible. He didn’t know one person could feel this much love, this much pure admiration for one person before Connor; so much that it makes his throat fill with anticipation every time Connor so much as smiles at him or brushes their hands when they’re walking next to each other. 

There’s no way Connor feels that for him. 

Trust. That’s another thing they’re working on. 

Evan has a tendency to doubt things. Most things. Everything, really. And that doesn’t exclude what Connor tells him; how cute he thinks Evan is, how hot he tells Evan he is when they’re kissing, how gorgeous he thinks he is. It’s hard for Evan to trust the sounds Connor makes and the things Connor voices his admiration for. Something always tells Evan that it’s not true, that Connor’s lying to make him feel better. And when Evan makes a mistake and Connor says  _ it’s okay  _ he convinces himself that it’s a lie, that Connor’s still mad at him. And when Connor says _ I love you _ , something in the back of his mind always tells him that it’s false. 

Trust. 

It’s difficult, every single day. But they’re getting there. Both of them.

And so when Connor whispers another I love you against Evan’s forehead, caresses the back of his head with a thumb and winds his fingers into Evan’s hair—

Evan believes him.


End file.
